


Walked and Prayed

by acaelousqueadcentrum



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Babyfic, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaelousqueadcentrum/pseuds/acaelousqueadcentrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out Audrey isn't immune to <em>all</em> the side effects that a Trouble can bring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walked and Prayed

They didn’t plan it, that’s for sure. 

But it turns out that when time starts passing in reverse, it’s really easy to screw up your birth control schedule.

Turns out Audrey isn’t immune to every side effect of The Troubles. 

~ * ~ 

She faints one day in the middle of an investigation and wakes up to Nathan holding her head on the side of the street. She talks him out of an ambulance, just barely, but he carries her into the car and drives her straight to the ER. Duke’s already there pacing in front of the entrance when they arrive; Nathan must’ve called him after she collapsed. 

The two of them squabble like children while they wait for a doctor to arrive. Audrey just lays back on the gurney and closes her eyes. She doesn’t have the energy to get involved and if she tries to get up and separate them, one or both of her boys will probably try to physically restrain her on the bed. 

They worry.

It’s not like they don’t have reason to. 

Strange things happen in Haven.

~ * ~ 

The diagnosis is a surprise to each of them. 

Audrey’s pregnant. 

From the date of her last period, and the scan the doctor runs, she’s about eight weeks along. 

A lot of things suddenly make sense. How tired she’s been, her lack of appetite. The way she’ll sometimes catch a whiff of Vince’s cologne and have to swallow fast and hard against the impulse to gag. The weird cramps and pains she’s been having in her back every now and again.

Audrey does the math in her head, and yep, eight weeks lines up perfectly with that weird Haven-in-rewind Trouble. She’s meticulous about her birth control—having a sexual relationship with two men will do that to a person—but to be honest, when a Trouble messes with time or dates, it becomes hard to keep track of whether you’ve taken it on schedule or not.

She’s pregnant. 

She’s pregnant. 

Nathan and Duke still seem to be having trouble with the idea, eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Duke seems to be fighting some adolescent urge to say “Not me” and run as fast as he can back out the door. He’s a good man, Duke is, and she loves him, but every now and again he slips back into that slick, Devil-may-care mask he wore for the first couple of months she knew him. 

But surprisingly, he recovers first. Nathan is still standing there, a steady stream of thoughts running to and fro across his face while Duke’s shocked look breaks into a look of wonder, of gentle love.

"Audrey, a baby?" 

His voice is soft, and she can already hear that he’s in. He’s completely in. Nathan, her, a baby? Duke’s soft whisper is all the confirmation she needs that he’s not going to be going anywhere.

"A baby?"

Nathan’s voice isn’t as calm as their partner. He’s a worrier, Nathan is. In their triangle, he’s the one who helps most to ground everyone else. When Duke and Audrey are all but ready to race off into the storm of whatever Trouble is affecting the town at the moment, Nathan is often the one to pull them back, to make them stop and think before they leap without looking.

Nathan’s already counting all the many things that could go wrong, all the ways that this new adventure could end badly for them, for her. 

"I guess we’re having a baby," Audrey answers back with a smile. A smile that gets even bigger when she sees Duke grab for Nathan’s hand and squeeze. A small gesture of comfort that even though Nathan can’t feel, he can see. See and know that they’re in this together. 

All three of them.

All four of them.

~ * ~

The most obvious question doesn’t occur to them until later that night, tucked into their large bed in Nathan’s house. Audrey’s sandwiched between them, the warmth of two big male bodies almost too much for her in the early autumn evening. 

It’s Duke who starts it. 

Of course it is.

"So, the kid," he says, a big palm spanning the still flat expanse of her belly, "whose trouble do you think he’ll get?"

"What do you mean," Audrey asks, feeling as Nathan combs his fingers through her hair.

"He means," Nathan cuts in, "that depending on which one of us is the father, this baby will either inherit the inability to feel anything or the power to absorb a Troubled person’s blood and end their family curse by killing them. That’s what he means."

Both men tense up as Nathan’s words fade away into the darkness of the room. 

The comfort of their cocoon has taken on a new, troubling dimension. Even this, something that should be joyous, is colored by the tangled web that is Haven, Maine. 

"I want you to be the dad," her boyfriends say in stereo. 

And for the first time, Audrey really thinks about what being pregnant here, in Haven, by one of these men really means.

~ * ~ 

The weeks turn into months, and soon she’s almost six months pregnant.

Nathan and Duke have been trying their best to keep her from over-exerting herself, from doing too much, from putting herself at risk, but there’s only so much they can do. Troubled episodes seem to have slowed down, lately, but they’re still happening. 

The townspeople congratulate them, and Vince and Dave start a weekly “What to Expect” column in the newspaper full of advice and lore about child-rearing. The parents of Haven have been enjoying submitting their “how to handle your Troubled baby” stories so much, the guys are thinking of making it a permanent addition. 

And them, Audrey and Nathan and Duke? 

They’re doing okay. 

Audrey lets them fuss over her, and they pretend not to know that she’s just going to do what she wants anyway. Nathan worries, Duke jokes, and there’s this tension between the two of them, this sort of “if our kid has to be Troubled, please let it be yours and not mine” stress between them right now. Eventually, Audrey’s going to have to tell them to just get over themselves, but neither of them are ready to listen to her just yet.

And she’s doing enough worrying of her own anyway. 

They should be happy, they should be overjoyed. They should be celebrating and thinking about when to tell people. They should be talking about names and colors and which room to turn into the nursery.

And they are happy, and they are excited, and even though this is a surprise they’re going to be okay. 

But they’re also afraid.

They’re also worried. 

Because this is Haven. 

And their baby will have three parents intimately connected to the town’s curse. 

~ * ~ 

It figures that Audrey would go into labor in the midst of a Trouble. Their child was conceived due to a Trouble. The Troubles have been on their mind throughout the duration of her pregnancy. And now, while some poor soul in Haven is splitting people into two—light and dark—Audrey clutches at her swollen belly and groans.

Dave and Vince are with her, watching over her while her lovers are off trying to talk a high schooler through her anger at being betrayed by her boyfriend. And the contractions, which were small and pretty far apart when Duke and Nathan drove off three hours ago, are now very close, and very painful. 

Audrey clutches at Dave’s hand and tries not to scream. 

She’s not ready for this, she’s not. 

She can’t do this, not without Nathan on one side and Duke on the other. It’s how they get through everything, the three of them.

Together.

They’re a team.

~ * ~ 

They almost miss it, Nathan and Duke. They almost miss the birth of their daughter. 

When Audrey’s grunts and yells and tears had started to scare Vince and Dave, the two newspapermen had called for an ambulance to transport her to the hospital. Against her wishes, despite her angry threats. 

She’d wanted to wait for her boys to get back home.

She should have known better, known that their child would enter the world on his or her own terms only. With no thought to anyone else’s schedule.

They almost miss it.

But they don’t. 

Duke reaches the room first, fresh scratches on his arm from some “psycho gym teacher.” 

Nathan’s not far behind. Limping—the gas station attendant apparently has quite the dark side—but here.

Finally, Nathan to her left, Duke to her right, Audrey begins to push.

~ * ~ 

The baby’s cry is loud, and Audrey laughs when she hears it. The boys look at her like she’s crazy, and maybe she is. But she’s sore, and she’s tired, and her men are by her side, and her baby is crying. Hollering, actually. 

For a minute, everything is perfect. 

And then the doctor puts their daughter on her belly and Audrey learns what “perfect” really means. 

She’s tiny, and red. 

Her face is scrunched up all angry-like, and her fists are clenched. 

She’s rip-roaring mad, and all Audrey wants to do is laugh and look at this perfect little person the three of them created. 

Nathan cuts the cord, his hands shaking just the slightest, while Duke looks away squeamishly, and Audrey laughs again. She’s so full of love in this moment. For their daughter, for Nathan and Duke, the two men she loves. 

The nurses take the baby away for a moment, just to clean her up, and she feels her men take up their places by her side again. Their hands are joined, resting against her back, and they both dip their heads to drop a kiss on her forehead. 

"Audrey, I …," Nathan starts to say, voice trembling. 

"… you’re amazing," Duke finishes for him, picking up where Nathan’s voice dropped off, too overcome with emotion to continue, "You’re amazing, and the kid is amazing, and we love you. We just want you to know that we love you."

"I know we’ve been troubled—I know we’ve been worried, Audrey, but whatever—whoever is the father, whatever trouble our kid inherits, we’ll deal with it." Nathan squeezes her hand gently, and looks down at her with the calmest, most sincere smile she’s seen on his face since they found out she was pregnant.

Audrey smiles, feeling the aches and pains of labor settle into her bones. She’s tired, and her men are idiots, but she loves them. 

She loves them.

"So you two are done being idiots," she asks, a small grin on her face.

Nathan nods, and Duke picks up her free hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing her on the palm. 

"We are," he answers.

~ * ~ 

They’ve asked for a blood test, they want to know who the father is just so they can prepare for any Trouble-related issues from the start, and less than an hour after their daughter was born, the doctor knocks and enters, a piece of paper fluttering in his hand. 

"Okay," he says, "the results of the blood test, which are not conclusive and can only be used to eliminate potential candidates for paternity, not confirm them, are in. We took a sample from mom and baby, and from each potential dad. And based Baby Parker’s blood type, it looks like Subject C is the biological father. Congratulations, Parker-Wuornos-Crocker family."

He steps out with a nod and a smile while Duke and Nathan just stare at each other with stupid looks on their faces.

"Guys," Audrey says, "please tell me you remember which one of you was C?"

The expressions on their faces are comical, and Audrey rubs at the baby’s nose. “Your daddies are silly,” she says as their little girl stretches in her blanket. 

The boys each reach for their wallets, where they stored the little slips of paper earlier after giving their blood sample, and hand her the pieces, neither wanting to be the one to look.

But Audrey is. She unfolds the slips and reads them aloud. 

"Subject C is Duke Crocker. Duke," she says with a soft smile, "you’re the biological father."

She knows he was hoping it wasn’t him, hoping that their daughter wouldn’t inherit the Crocker family curse, wouldn’t inherit the responsibilities passed along through Crocker blood. Just as she knows that Nathan is relieved, relieved to know that their daughter will be able to touch and feel, will know the heat of the sun on her cheek and the tickle of the grass under her toes. 

These two men, so strong and so proud. So willing to sacrifice to save someone else from pain, from sorrow. She couldn’t imagine better fathers for their daughter. 

"Hey," Nathan says, reaching out to rub a hand along Duke’s shoulder, "this is a good thing. Remember? We talked about it."

And Audrey is surprised to see Duke nod. 

"Talked about it," she asks. 

Duke answers. “We did. We’ve been talking while out on patrol, when you’re stuck at home or in the office. We don’t just grunt and eat donuts all day, you know.”

"We wanted to have a plan, no matter who was the father," Nathan continued, "and really, Duke being her father is the best case scenario. Because no matter what, we can protect her. She won’t have to follow in the Crocker footsteps. And at least she’ll be able to feel things, Audrey. Our daughter will be able to feel."

"Besides," Duke cuts in, "we’re going to figure out this Trouble thing and how to end it anyway, for good. So no matter what, she won’t have to live through any of the things we’ve all lived through."

They sound so sure, her boys, and content. Happy. Happier than they’ve been in months, maybe even since she first stumbled into this crazy town. 

"Good," she says, "sounds like a plan. But first, dads, our girl needs a name. And I think Nathan should do the honors."

He looks startled for a moment, his head turning back and forth between her and Duke, but the looks on their faces, in their eyes, must convince them. 

Because he lays a hand gently over the squirming blanketed bundle in her lap, and takes a deep breath.

"Asa," he says, and she knows he’s put thought into this, that he’s been thinking and pondering for months. In that perfect, quiet, slow, Nathan-way of his.

"Asa," Duke repeats, and runs a finger over their daughter’s cheek, "it fits her."

Nathan smiles at them. “It means healer,” he says, and Audrey can feel her eyes getting wet, “in honor of her mother.”

She fights off the tears, which is easier said than done with all the hormones and things flooding her system right now. But now is not the time for tears, not even happy ones. 

Instead, she lifts Asa up from her lap and kisses her on the forehead. Asa, their perfect girl with her dark curls and her light eyes. 

"Okay, boys," she says, "our daughter is almost two hours old and neither of you have held her yet. Come on, now. She’s just a tiny little thing, no reason to be afraid of her."

They laugh nervously with her, but it takes a minute or two before Duke reaches down to lift her up. Asa’s tiny body is dwarfed by her father’s large, strong hands. Duke carefully sets her into the crook of his arm and bends his head to whisper secrets into her tiny little ears while Nathan squeezes Audrey’s hand. 

And then, then Duke moves over to the other side of the bed, Asa tucked securely against him, and comes to stand by Nathan’s side. 

"Come on, Wuornos," he says quietly, "man up and hold your kid."

Audrey might’ve gone about it a little more gently, knowing just how afraid Nathan is that his Trouble will interfere with his ability to bond with their child, to be a dad to her. But Duke’s jibe seems to do the trick, because Nathan prepares his arms to receive their girl. 

He holds her still for a moment, just getting used to her little body in his arms, but then he slowly begins to rock himself back and forth, eyes glued to her face, watching her, drinking in every expression, every movement their Asa makes.

And then he lowers his head, just enough to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead, on her head of dark curls. 

And he gasps.

"I can feel her," he says, his voice full of awe and wonder and love and joy and a thousand other happy emotions he has no name for, "I can feel her."

She wasn’t planned, no, but as Audrey watches her men fall in love with their daughter, with their sweet Asa, she knows that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "A Prayer for My Daughter" by W.B. Yeats.


End file.
